Made
by depplvr12
Summary: NOT A GOODFELLAS FIC. (Original Story) She can't bring herself to leave him, no matter how bad it gets. (Mob Boyfriend) Rated M for suggestive language, profanity, and mature themes


Made

Walking through the crowded night club was like wading through the Amazon rainforest. The air was thick and heavy; every pulse; every vibration could be felt through the heat. Amy Thatcher made her way to the bar and sat down, looking around at all the people dancing in the room. It was her normal spot. She came to the club every Saturday, sat at the bar and looked around at all the dancing people.

The year was 1983. It was a Saturday like any other Saturday in New York. The weather was hot; the night was young, and the people were loud. The door opened and in walked a young man in a blue suit. The jacket was open and the white shirt underneath was unbuttoned just enough to see a golden cross in the midst of all of his chest hair. He took off his sunglasses and slid them into his pocket, running a hand through his head of dark brown hair. Not even in the room for two seconds, and he already caught the attention of half the girls in the club.

He looked around at the dance floor and noticed a young brunette at the bar. She was pretending like she didn't see him. Her green dress clung to her thighs as she nervously crossed and uncrossed her legs. The boy smirked; it was time to make his move.

Amy stirred her drink with her straw and noticed out of the corner of her eye that the boy who just entered the club was walking towards her. Her heart started to pound and she began to stare intently at her friend Lisa who was dancing with yet another stranger she met that evening.

"Why aren't you dancing?"

She looked to her right and saw him leaning against the bar, looking right in her eyes. Amy swallowed and tried to answer as calmly as possible. "I don't normally dance. I like to look around, y'know?" She used her hand to gesture towards the dancefloor and knocked over the glass that was in front of her. "Shit!" She muttered, picking up the glass.

The boy laughed and ordered her another. He exuded an aura of confidence. His demanding presence was both attractive and terrifying. Smiling at her, he said, "You're cute when you're embarrassed. You know that?" She looked at his eyes. He was looking at her like she was the only one in the room. Sticking out his hand, he doesn't give her time to answer. "I'm Johnny. Johnny Rizzulo. And you are?"

"Amy Thatcher." She smiled and put her hand in his.

"Well, Amy Thatcher," He smirked and flicked his eyes up and down, examining her closely. "I'm certainly glad I decided to come to the night club today."

Blushing, Amy pulled her hand away. He began to ask her about her day, her family, what she did for a living. Johnny had the confidence she wished she had. He seemed so sure about himself. He was charming, attractive and a good listener. Who would have thought she would meet her dream man at the Viper Club?

Time goes on, and Johnny looks at his watch. "It's getting pretty late. How about I take you home?" Amy takes his wrist and looks at the time as well. Damn. It _was_ late. Her mother was going to be worried sick about her. She looked back at Johnny and nodded her head.

Johnny opened the passenger door of his black Cadillac CDV and helped her inside. The car ride home was nice. The couple continued talking and discovered that they had more in common than they thought. They were both 23; they still lived with their parents; they both enjoy cooking. It seemed like it was meant to be.

When they arrived at the Thatcher residence, Johnny pulled into her driveway and turned off the car. Exiting the vehicle, he opened the door and walked her to the front steps. Before she could get her keys out of her purse, Johnny grabbed her waist, pulled her close and pressed his lips against hers. She felt her body go limp and she put her hands on Johnny's neck.

After a moment, Johnny pulled away and gave her a smile. He scratched at the back of his neck and chuckled, "So, uh, can I call you sometime?"

Amy blushed and giggled, looking at the ground. Looking up at him, she responded in a shaky voice, "Yes." She reached into her purse and grabbed a spare receipt and wrote her number down on the back. Slipping the receipt into his hand, she opened the door and waved Johnny goodbye. He made her nervous, which kind of excited her, too.

Sunday felt like any other Sunday, at least until Amy entered the kitchen. She walked down the stairs and said good morning to her mother, and gave her father a kiss on the cheek. The air immediately felt different. "What's going on?" She asked.

"Was that Johnny Rizzulo's car I saw in the driveway last night?" Her mother was stiff, and cold like a statue. Her father wouldn't look up from his breakfast.

Amy paused, shocked. "Y-yes, i-it was." She looked back and forth between her parents. "I met him at the club last night and he drove me home."

Her father put his head in his hands and breathed in heavily. Her mother began to pace around the table. There was silence for a good minute.

"Ma! What's going on?"

Her mother turned to her with a scared look. "Johnny Rizzulo is _made._ "

Amy furrowed her brow in confusion. "What do you mean?"

" _Made!_ He's one of them! You can't do this, Amy. You just can't."

" _What_ are you _talking_ about?!" Amy was starting to get impatient and angry.

Suddenly, her father slammed his hand down on the table. " _Damn it, Amy!_ He's in the mob."

Not believing her parents, Amy began to laugh. "No, he can't! That's silly. He's just a nice Italian boy from Brooklyn. I like him. Ok? You know I've never been into someone before. Let me have this!" She pleaded.

Her parents looked back and forth between each other, clearly scared out of their wits. Her mother breathed in, and said quietly, "Just be careful, okay?"

Amy gave her mother a hug. "Of course, I will, Ma. He probably won't even call me."

Of course, the phone _did_ ring later that day, and Johnny picked up Amy that night to go out to dinner. After that, the two were inseparable. They were together almost every day. It seemed like they were never going to run out of things to talk about.

However, they did a lot more than just talk. Amy had never fully allowed herself to get physical with someone before. But it was different with Johnny. He read her body like a book. His hands worked magic on her skin; she had never felt this good in all of her life. So what if he got a little handsy at times? She was hesitant in the beginning, but she often found herself begging for his touch.

It was a Thursday like any other Thursday. Amy was walking home from her job as a secretary when her coworker Roger O'Sullivan pulled up next to her. "Hey, Amy, did you need a ride home? It looks like it's gonna pour out here."

Looking at the angry gray clouds in the sky, Amy quickly complied and got into Roger's car. "Thank you so much, Roger." She directed him towards her house and he peeled off the curb. They talked about work, the weather, and other surface-level discussion topics. Seeing her house in the distance, she said "Oh! There's my house! Thank you for driving me!"

"No problem, Amy. Maybe we could hang out some time? I'd love to take you to dinner."

Amy hesitated before responding. "That's a lovely offer. But I kind of have a boyfriend."

"Really? You never talk about him." Roger's eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

"I try not to bring up my personal life at work, but yes, I do."

"Come on. One dinner."

"Roger, I can't."

"Okay, okay!" He laughed, putting his hands up.

Roger pulled into the driveway and Johnny was leaning against her front door, waiting for her to get home. He noticed that Roger was driving his girlfriend, and trying to make a move on her. His eyes narrowed. He pushed himself off the door and bounded down the stairs, making a beeline towards the car.

Opening and closing his mouth in disbelief, Roger stuttered. "Is that…Johnny Rizzulo?"

"I have to go." Amy quickly closed the door of the Vista Cruiser, and saw Johnny angrily walking towards her. "Johnny?"

Johnny ignored her, and yanked open the driver's door of the car, pulling Roger out and pressing him against the car. "What the _fuck_ do you think you're doing, huh?"

Roger looked petrified. "I was just driving her-"

"You were just flirting with my girlfriend; _that's_ what you were doing!" Johnny curled his hand into a fist and punched Roger right in the mouth.

"I didn't do anything; I swear!" Roger yelled, his mouth pooling with blood.

"Shut the fuck up, you fucking paddy. You were making the moves on my girlfriend." Johnny pushed Roger to the ground and started punching him repeatedly across the face.

Amy was horrified. "Johnny, he just asked me to dinner! He didn't know that I was dating you! Please stop hitting him!"

Johnny turned to look at her in disbelief; he began to see red. Turning back to Roger, he yelled, "You asked her out?!" With that, Johnny began to increase the pace of his blows. Roger's face didn't look like a face anymore. It was bloody, and swollen. A couple of his teeth were missing, but Johnny didn't let up.

Not thinking, Amy tried to pull her boyfriend off of Roger. Johnny took his arm and shoved her to the ground. "Don't you fucking move a muscle, or I swear to God, I'll kill him." Realizing what he said, he turned and looked at Amy, lying on the ground in tears. His eyes narrowed and he turned back to the bleeding mess on the ground. "Look what you did! You made her cry!" He punched the boy again, and very quietly he leaned down and said in a very calm voice, "If you ever…so much as _look_ at her again? I'll beat you so bad, you'll wish I had killed you today."

He pushed himself off the boy, and directed his attention to the shaking girl on the sidewalk. He held out his hand, and she gingerly accepted it. Lifting her off the ground, he pulled Amy into his arms. "I won't let anything hurt you. No one can touch you. I love you, Amy." He kissed the top of her head, and deeply inhaled the scent of her perfume.

She could feel his strong arms tighten around her, and she swallowed hard when one of his hands wrapped around the back of her neck. Her eyes glanced over at Roger, still lying on the ground, likely unconscious and began to sob quite loudly. She grabbed on to Johnny's shirt and wailed while he smoothed out her hair. She wanted to run. She wanted to hide. She wanted to call the cops. But she couldn't bring herself to do it. Amy may have been scared, but some strange part of her felt protected. Johnny beat Roger up for her. Did he really love her? Was that true? He _did_ shove her to the ground, but that was an accident. He was angry. She couldn't hold that against him…could she?

Amy and Johnny had dinner with the Thatcher's that night. Amy's mother saw the whole fight take place. She stayed silent.

Later that night, Amy was lying awake in her room, trying desperately to fall asleep. Visions of today's events kept flashing across her mind. Roger looked at her, and she could faintly hear him say the word, "help." Johnny's voice kept playing in her ear, "No one can touch you." Hearing a sound coming from her window, Amy shot out of bed. Looking outside, she noticed her beloved boyfriend. He had climbed up the trellis on the side of her house.

Very carefully, she got up and opened her window. "Johnny, what are you doing here?!" She whispered.

He put a finger to his lips and looked at her bedroom door, making sure that no one was coming in. Climbing into her room, he closed the window and turned to her, sitting on the corner of her bed. His white t-shirt was all sweaty and clung to his chiseled chest. He ran a hand through his messy hair, and looked Amy up and down in her silk nightgown. He whispered, "I wanted to make sure you were okay. Plus, I missed you." He pulled the bottom of her nightgown, so she would move closer to the bed. His hands rubbed her thighs and Amy's breath caught in her throat.

"Johnny-"

"Why don't you wear this more?" He bit his lip and looked up at her.

"Please, my parents are in the next room-"

"We'll be quiet. Don't worry." Pulling her down to the mattress, he began to plant little kisses along her jawline and neck. He noticed her racing heart beat and began to chuckle. "Did I scare you? I promise I won't pop up in your window like that again without calling you first." He kissed her on the mouth and gently licked at her bottom lip, letting out a guttural moan when she opened her mouth and allowed him entrane. One of his hands began to move down from her neck towards her thighs. He grazed her breast and let his fingers linger on her hip bone before reaching down and caressing the back of her leg. The grip on her neck seemed to tighten.

Little did he know, she wasn't just spooked by him surprising her in the window. Amy was afraid to _speak_ , especially when he was this close to her neck. Her body grew stiff. Johnny immediately noticed and pulled away, "Is everything okay?"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm just a little stressed about work." She lied, and flipped onto her side.

"How about this? I'll just let you sleep and give you a little massage, huh?" He began to put both of his hands on her shoulders rubbing circles on the back of her neck with his thumbs.

Her shoulders tensed up and she tried to shake him off. "I'm okay, really. I just really could use some sleep."

The atmosphere in the room changed. The air seemed thicker and she could almost feel Johnny's eyes narrow. She turned back around and saw him staring down at her in anger. The hand that was near Amy's neck grabbed a fistful of hair and she winced, looking up at him. "I had a bad day, too, Amy. You're not the only one in this relationship that's allowed to feel things. I came here because I wanted some comfort from my girlfriend, and I'm being treated like I'm repulsive."

Her heart rate picking back up again, she stammered, "I-I'm he-here. I l-love you, J-Johnny. P-please, let go." He released her hair and she felt a tear fall down her face; luckily, in this dark room, it was hard for him to see. "Can we please just go to sleep?" She asked, praying to God he would say yes.

His eyes softened and he replied, "Of course." He kissed both of her shoulders and pulled her body into his. "Be my little spoon." He kissed the back of her head, and rubbed her arm. Once she felt his breathing slow, she relaxed and was able to fall asleep.

The next morning when Amy woke up, Johnny was gone. She breathed a sigh of relief and proceeded to start her day.

Her mother and father were in the kitchen and they both looked up at Amy when she entered the room. "Mom? Dad? What's going on?"

Her mother looked at her husband and then breathed in deeply. "Amy, we are worried about you."

She laughed and then looked at her mother again, seeing that she was serious. "What? Why?"

"Johnny Rizzulo is not a good person." Her mother started up again on why Johnny was bad news.

"Oh, Ma, seriously? Enough. He's a great guy. I love him!"

"Amy Elizabeth Thatcher!" Her father yelled. "Your mother saw what happened yesterday!" Amy grew silent in shock. "And I walked into your room this morning to talk to you about it, and saw Johnny asleep in your bed."

"He came over last night unannounced. I didn't know he was coming." She tried to defend herself.

"I don't want you to see him anymore, Amy! We are scared. _I_ am scared." Her dad's voice broke on the last word. "In all the times that he has come over, I've not seen him talk to you once. He's always just kissing you like some kind of animal. I can't believe you would allow yourself to be a ragdoll for this man. What happens when he gets mad at _you_ and not Roger O'Sullivan? Is he gonna beat the hell out of you, too? I raised you better than this!"

"Dad, he was just protecting me, yesterday. He went a little too far, but he cares about me. He didn't mean to hurt me. And whatever issues we have are _our_ issues and we will work them out, but I don't need your help on this! I am almost 24; I am a big girl; I can do this on my own!" She was starting to see red. She ran out of the house, and jumped into the car. Why couldn't she be honest with her parents? Why couldn't she be honest with herself? This wasn't the first time that Johnny had been violent with her, but he loved her. He would just break up with her if he didn't care. He obviously cared; why couldn't her parents see that? Amy knew that she was fooling herself. But she didn't know what she was more scared of: being with Johnny Rizzulo or being without Johnny Rizzulo.

Johnny was sitting at Tony Medici's house awaiting the next assignment. Tony was a sturdy middle aged man that lived in Brooklyn. He was the head of the pack and always gave out the weekly assignments to people. Who was gonna get whacked. When the shipments were coming in. Who was going to be made. He was the center of it all. Tony was in the kitchen, making the Sunday gravy and talking to the other members about what had happened earlier this week. Johnny heard his name being mentioned so he walked into the kitchen. The other guys all looked at Johnny and then looked away.

"What's everyone talking about in here?" Johnny glanced at all the guys, before focusing in on Tony. He was the head of the operation. He would tell Johnny what was going on.

"Eh…" Tony scratched at his head. "We heard about what happened, Johnny."

Johnny furrowed his brow in confusion. "What do you mean?"

"I _mean_ we know that you beat the living shit out of Roger O'Sullivan in broad daylight!" Tony's voice began to get a little louder.

"Yeah…so?" Johnny was still confused.

"The Feds are already getting close; we don't need any more attention drawn to us. People have already started saying that we're targeting the Irish. Are we targeting the Irish, Johnny?" Tony put his hands on his hips and his face began to turn red.

"I was just-"

" _Are we?_ " Tony demanded an answer.

"No, sir." Johnny looked down at his feet.

"No, we are not. So why the fuck would you beat the shit out of Roger O'Sullivan, when you _know_ he's connected to the Irish community's gang? Huh?!" Tony yelled.

Johnny sighed and ran his hand through his hair. "He was making a move on Amy. I had to."

"I also heard that you've started beating her as well."

Johnny's head shot up. "What?"

"Is that true? Are you beating your girlfriend?" Tony took the spoon out of the gravy and pointed it at Johnny like it was a night stick.

"What? No! I mean, have I hit her a couple times? Yeah. But I'm certainly not beating her." Johnny stammered. How had people heard about that already?

"I don't give a shit what you think you're doing but it needs to stop. You're whacking people left and right; you're beating up random Irishmen in your girlfriend's yard. You're losing it, John. You need to figure out what the fuck is going on with you and step away from the game for a bit, before someone else decides to solve this issue." Tony stopped looking at him, and turned back to the gravy.

"What are you saying?" Johnny asked through his teeth.

"You know exactly what the fuck I'm saying. You know I love you, Johnny boy; you're like a son to me. But this shit has gone on far enough. You're taking a breather." Tony continued stirring the gravy.

Johnny started to laugh in disbelief. "You can't be serious."

"Do I look like a fucking clown to you? Like I'm trying to make you laugh? No. Get the fuck out of my kitchen and go home. Come back to me in a week and we'll see if you're ready to be back in the game. I don't need this extra stress on my ass when we got the feds watching us every second."

Johnny was livid. He turned around and walked out the door slamming it shut. He opened up the car door and floored it back to his house. Everyone hits their girlfriend. It's not like he's the only one in the mob that does so. Why was he being punished for it?

Johnny arrived at his house to see Amy sitting on his front porch waiting for him. Good. He was going to go find her anyway. From the looks of it, she had been crying. When she saw him approach, she breathed in deeply, and stood up.

"Johnny-"

He silenced her by pushing her up against the side of the house, and latching his mouth onto hers. There was a sense of urgency behind his motions; he was not messing around. She tried to push him off of her, placing her hands against his chest. Johnny grabbed her wrists and held them above her head with one hand, pulling her torso closer with the other.

Every chance she could, Amy tried to get him to stop. "Johnny…please…stop…I need…to talk…to you." Finally, after a couple more minutes of struggling, Johnny pulled away, annoyed.

" _What?_ What is it?!"

Amy looked up at him, hurt for snapping at her, but also scared because he seemed angry. She might as well just come out and ask him. What her father had said to her had been bothering her. "Why don't you ever talk to me?"

Johnny looked at her, flabbergasted and confused. "What the fuck are you talking about? I talk to you all the time." He grabbed her waist and tried kissing her again, but she pushed him away so she could look into his eyes.

"No. You don't. You compliment me and you listen to me, but you never talk to me. You kiss me all the time, but you never say anything. Why do you kiss me like some kind of animal?" She was starting to get angry. She noticed his eyes darken, and felt his whole body stiffen in front of her.

"Get in the car." He growled.

"What?" She looked scared.

"Get in the _fucking_ car, Amy." He took her by the arm and shoved her towards the Cadillac.

"I want to go home, Johnny." She tried getting her car keys out of her purse, but Johnny snatched them and threw them down the street.

"The fuck you are. Get in the car." He opened up the passenger door and shoved her inside.

"You're hurting me!" She screamed.

"Shut up!" He grabbed her hair and pulled really hard. "I just lost everything because of you, and you have the audacity to call me a bad boyfriend?" Shoving her back into her seat, Johnny walked around and got into the other side.

"Where are we going?" Amy asked quietly.

Johnny stayed silent and kept driving.

"Take me home, Johnny. Please. You're scaring me."

Silence.

"I never said you were a bad boyfriend. I asked you a question. I'm sorry. Please don't hit me again. Please."

Johnny looked at her incredulously. "You do. You think I'm a bad boyfriend. Well, I'm sorry I'm not Prince Charming, Amy. I'm sorry that no one is good enough for you. I'm sorry that I have a stressful job that I just lost because you're so fucking slutty that you go around and flirt with any guy that comes your way. Yeah, I'm real sorry that my life just got turned fucking upside down because of you, but yes, _I'm_ the bad boyfriend."

Johnny pulled into an abandoned parking lot, and turned the car off. He opened up the driver door and got out, walking around to the other side. Amy couldn't breathe. She couldn't move. All she could think about was her father. She had told him that he was wrong. She had told him to stay out of it. But now more than ever, all she wanted was to hug him and make the pain go away.

Johnny ripped open the passenger door, and threw her out onto the pavement. "You think I'm a bad boyfriend? You haven't seen how bad I can truly be." Rearing back, Johnny slammed his shoe into her back. She let out an agonized scream. "Tony said that I'm out of the gang now because of this. Because of _you_ , I've lost the most important part of my life. And the one person I wanted to be with after it happened was you and instead of comforting me, you play the martyr and tell me that I'm a bad person." Taking off his belt, he looked down at her in disgust.

"You wanna see bad, Amy? You wanna see how gangsters treat their girlfriends? I'll show you bad." Taking the belt, he slapped it across her skin. She began to cry, and profusely apologize. She said she was sorry. She told him she loved him. She said she would never hurt him again. She begged for forgiveness.

She tried looking in his eyes. They were filled with tears, and he relentlessly hit her, until he had no energy to anymore. Her nose was broken, and bleeding. She was sure that she had some bruised ribs from all the kicking, and it felt as if someone shattered her entire right arm. "I love you, Amy. Do you get that? I _love_ you. You're my world now. We are made for each other. You will make this up to me. Do you hear me? You _will_ make this up to me." He got onto his knees and grabbed her neck, making her open her eyes. "Look at me. You're all I have left. You will make this up to me." The pressure on her neck increased and she couldn't breathe. She tried pushing him off of her with her left arm but he wouldn't let up. "Stop. Pushing. Me. Away." He growled.

"Can't…breathe!" She rasped. As if waking from a trance, Johnny released her neck from his grasp.

"Oh, God." He stood up, and scooped her shaking, broken, bloody body off the ground and put her back in the car. He felt her pulse as he buckled her seatbelt. She was barely breathing. "Oh, no." Getting back into the driver's seat, he floored it on the way to the hospital. "Don't you die on me, Amy Thatcher. Don't you fucking die on me."

A couple hours later, Amy woke up in a hospital bed. Johnny was sitting in the chair next to the bed, waiting for her to come to. "Where are we?"

"We're in a hospital in New Jersey. After you're discharged, we're moving to Boston. No one can get us there." Johnny said. "We're all we've got left. We're made for each other."

Not having the will to fight, Amy closed her eyes and nodded her head. She had always longed for an adventure that would take her out of Brooklyn. Now she had to fight for her life from the man she loved. Who knows what he could do? After all, he was made.


End file.
